Choosing the Path Between the Stars, A 'Labyrinth' Story
by CelesteeLexie
Summary: Sarah is now in college, and Jareth is stuck underground in misery. A friend of Sarah's comes to Jareth with dire news of her father's health. Jareth appears to Sarah in a dream and offers to save her father if she will join him in the Underground. What will Sarah choose? Will she be taken as Jareth's prisoner or will she watch her father fade away?
1. Chapter 1

*I do not own rights to Labyrinth or any of the characters*

Choosing the Path Between the Stars, Chapter One:

Someone once, many years before, had expressed the common human sentiment to him—and now he was forced to echo the bereavement himself: "It's not fair," he murmured. Jareth sat gazing out of the round window that sat snugly in the wall of his throne room. From the windowsill, cut so thick from the stone that had birthed Jareth's castle, he could easily sit and survey the goblin city sprawled out before him.

Little goblins shuffled about clumsily in the tiny square beneath the palace. The goblin king watched as an especially rotund goblin tripped and fell with a splash into the murky waters of the fountain that stood in the center of the square. Even this comical misfortune was not enough to bring the smallest of smirks to Jareth's face.

"It's not fair," he echoed, lifting his eyes away from the window and down to his hands, where he clutched a familiar piece of literature that almost never left his sight.

He opened the red leather-bound book to the first page, where he read the same tired, scrawling script that Sarah's mother had penned across the title page-the same line he read every day:

"To my Sarah, may you always keep make-believe alive in your heart."

Jareth thumbed through the pocket-sized volume, sighing wearily. He could still remember Sarah reading from the small book in the park the evening that they first met face to face. He could still remember her rippling white dress, how she read the lines from the novel with such passion, and a longing to truly believe their meaning. He had thought at the time of course, that it was nothing but a silly human trinket, devoid of meaning. But it had meant so much to her, and on one particular night, long after she had solved the Labyrinth, he had slipped through her open window and snatched the book up into his talons.

Jareth could only visit Sarah's home in the world above in the form of an owl. Magic prevented him from taking his true form unless he was summoned. That was how he was able to meet Sarah that first night in her parent's bedroom, when she was merely a child and had carelessly wished away her baby brother. Of course, he had only done it because she had asked. The other tricks and cruel twists and turns, all the smoke and mirrors he had used to cloud her mind had just been his unnatural way of trying to impress the young girl. But of course, a teenage human girl could hardly endure his ceaseless onslaught of illusion and not take it personally.

He blamed only himself, at the end of it all. He had scared her, threatened her, and bribed her. And she had done what no other girl before her had done. She had said no.

It was the utter and flat out rejection that drove him mad, that kept him tossing and turning in his silk sheets at night. He paced the throne room now, remembering how she had stood up to him—how brave and spirited she had been—how absolutely dazzling she was. Every other teenage girl had taken his offer, blinded by materialism and enchanted by his glittering world. But when he realized that he held no true affection for them in his hardened heart, they would vanish and return to their world, with no memory of his Labyrinth.

There had been many, many girls that had roamed the Labyrinth before Sarah. Each one of them had whispered in the night some desperate wish. They wished all kinds of things, better friends, a slimmer figure, the devotion of their parents, the love of another. And each time they wished, Jareth would appear. He would offer them their deepest desires, if they could solve the Labyrinth and find him at its center. Few of them had the courage and patience to untangle the chaos of the massive stone maze, but for the scant minority that could, Jareth would offer them a throne. To join him in ruling the underground world was to most of them, a far greater bargain than what they had originally wished for. And when he offered them a crystal, spherical and glittering, they would take it in their eager hands, only to realize that if they were not truly the girl meant for him, it would dissolve into the air and they would be thrust back into their beds. They would awaken the next morning with no memory of his rippling cloak and shining crystals.

So many girls had passed through the castle, he had nearly lost count. But Sarah had been the last one. Since her departure, he had stopped listening to the incessant wishes of mortals. He no longer lurked in their dreams, he no longer responded when a lovely youth desperately prayed for something only he could make real. Ever since Sarah, he had lost all interest in the game. If one could call it a game.

A sudden crash startled Jareth from his thoughts. He looked up at the doorway, where a goblin had run directly into a coat of arms rushing to bring him a message. The tiny thing now hopped up and down on one foot, gripping an injured foot and mumbling profanities. The goblin stopped when he met the king's gaze.

"Oh so sorry, majesty," the goblin squawked, "I came as fast as I could, sir," he stammered and hobbled over to Jareth, who's gloved hand was already outstretched and waiting for the letter the goblin held.

He snatched the paper from the tiny, trembling goblin. Jareth unfolded the paper, and read the graceless uneven goblin writing quickly. His eyes hardened and he crumpled the note, tossing it at the servant's feet. The goblin shrieked and hopped backward, thinking it was some magic trick his ruler was playing on him. When he understood that Jareth had merely thrown trash at him, he picked it up off the floor and scurried away, slamming the heavy wooden doors behind him.

Jareth's pace grew heavier on the stone floor, and the sharp echo of his step hit the walls with a resounding crack. How dare that insolent cretin show his face in the goblin city! Fury boiled in his veins as he waited for his entrance. Sure enough there was a light tap on the thick wooden doors and the goblin came teetering in, jewels clinking at his belt. He took off his hat and bowed before the king.

"Good to see you, Hogwash," Jareth snickered.

"It's Hoggle," the goblin said, eyes boring into Jareth's. He had shed his cowardly ways since Sarah left, becoming more brazen than he ever thought he could be. Now instead of a shriveling, mindless servant, Hoggle had become his own man, with his own mind.

"What do you want?" Jareth spat, "I could have you beheaded just for showing your face here,"

Hoggle knew well enough that if the goblin king had wanted him dead he would've killed him many years ago. The fact that he was still alive meant something.

"I came cause of Sarah," Hoggle said quietly.

Jareth's head snapped back toward the goblin. He lurched forward with intensity and kneeled down before the tiny man. "What did you just say?" he demanded.

"I says I came here cause Sarah," Hoggle stated firmly, "I just came back from the above world, and something's wrong."

"Is she hurt?" Jareth said, voice wavering, heart wounded just at the thought.

"No sir, she ain't hurt," Hoggle said, shaking his head, "It's her dad," the goblin continued, "He's sick. Deathly sick."

Jareth stood up, considering this. Why should it matter to him whether or not an old mortal man live or die? What good would it do him to have this information?

"Why did you tell me this?" Jareth asked.

"Well, majesty," Hoggle began, "You are the fulfiller of wishes, aren't you?"

Jareth rolled his eyes, "Trust me Hogbrain, if Sarah had wished for her father's health I would've restored it in seconds. She hasn't whispered a wish to me since that night long ago."

Hoggle shuffled nervously, "Of course she hasn't sir, because she's afraid you'll bring her right back to the Labyrinth."

Jareth mulled this over in his mind. He paced. He sat down on his throne, throwing one leg over an arm of the chair. He looked over at Hoggle.

"For god's sake, Hogwart, you are dismissed!" he shouted.

Hoggle hobbled out of the room swiftly and slammed the doors behind him. Jareth was alone again and without any idea how to proceed. Hoggle was right, he could easily restore Sarah's father's health. But to meet with the girl he had to be summoned, otherwise he would appear to her only as a flapping owl. Jareth tossed ideas around in his head as he paced the throne room. The sun began to set over the goblin city and the shadows of the underground night began to creep up the walls around the king. Any moment now the goblins would come bursting in from their day to sit around the throne and become miserably drunk. Jareth had only a few precious minutes of silence left before the little oafs came parading in.

A sudden idea came to him, instantaneous and sparkling. It struck his mind like lightning and a sinister smile crept over his face. His mismatched eyes flashed lewdly. He had it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sarah honey, really I'm fine," Robert called out from his hospital bed. Sarah had already left the room to get him the extra pillow that he didn't ask for. She had harassed the nurses up and down the hall all evening with endless requests for him. Any more and they might begin rationing his food. Sarah returned with two pillows in light green cotton pillow cases.

"They gave me two, probably so I don't come back again," Sarah said, laughing.

Robert couldn't help but smile. She was a pain, but no one else had been beside him during his illness. His wife Irene had walked out when the disease became too hard for her to bear. The worst part was that she had taken Toby. The four year old didn't understand the gravity of his father's illness, and Irene refused to let him stay around it long enough to realize the inevitable ending to the story.

Robert was in his fourth stage of pancreatic cancer. He had seen an endless line of doctors, who all said the same thing: make peace with your family and get your affairs in order. The hardest part was telling Sarah, who, despite her nineteen years, seemed older than she was. She wouldn't cry in front of him—at which he was surprised. In her high school days she had always been so dramatic, with a love of theater and fantasy just like her mother. But she had changed deeply in a way he couldn't name. He remembered with a fond smile how Sarah used to fight with Irene, as the two exchanged bitter words that Sarah had already confessed a deep regret for. She had been only a child, without any real insight into the sting of her words. But everything had seemed to shift after that last argument on that stormy night years ago. They had left Toby in her care and the next day Sarah was changed, with a passionate love for her baby brother that they hadn't noticed before.

Robert and Irene didn't question this change of heart and instead tried to find new ways to connect with Sarah. Their home was full of a family harmony that had been lacking for a great many years. That all changed however, when Robert became ill and Irene had run away with Toby. Sarah was all he had now, and he couldn't ask for a more watchful and patient caregiver and daughter. He looked over at her as she read on the chair beside his bed. She came every day after classes, to keep him company and read to him. They had already finished The Wizard of Oz and all of Grimm's Fairy Tales, and now they were beginning The Phantom Tollbooth. Sarah read to him for about a half hour before becoming drowsy. Robert had long drifted off and she closed her eyes and fell into a light sleep in the stiff hospital chair.

* * *

 _There were stone walls on both sides of her as she ran with a primal fear from something behind her. A long, straight, stone corridor was laid out in front of her and her steps seemed to get her nowhere. She looked around desperately for a turn, a way out of the endless narrow path. But there were only the walls and miles and miles of stone walkway. She quickened her pace and dared not look behind her._

 _Suddenly, the path ended and she was confronted with a thick slab of stone and nowhere to turn. She pressed her hands against the wall, pounding on it with her fists until the wall gave a deep moan and crumbled beneath her palms. Behind the wall was a dark nothingness. She turned around and saw the cloud of black smoke coming toward her, with something treacherous inside of it headed straight for her. She took a breath and jumped into the darkness._

 _She was blinded with a bright light and for a moment could see nothing. When her eyes adjusted she found she was standing in the throne room of the castle at the center of the Goblin City. She shuddered and her blood froze icy cold in her veins as she heard the voice of the man who had haunted her for years._

 _"_ _Well, well, well," he said, appearing from behind her and walking in a slow, deliberate circle around her, "What have we here?"_

 _Sarah was silent, but her eyes were locked on his with a fiery hatred that she hoped would put some sort of fear in him._

 _"_ _After all these years, it looks as if you may need my help again," Jareth said._

 _Sarah suppressed her fears and found the courage to talk._

 _"_ _You're idea of help must be very different from mine," she said through gritted teeth, "The last time you tried to help me, you practically killed me."_

 _Jareth chuckled softly and softened his gaze, "Now Sarah, do you really believe that? I could never hurt you. In fact, I've never harmed a living soul." Sarah rolled her eyes and Jareth stopped his pacing to stand in front of her. He took a step closer to the girl and she recoiled back and away from him. Jareth winced, "Don't be like that, my dear girl. This is just a dream, and I cannot truly touch you."_

 _Sarah relaxed her stance just a little and allowed herself to exhale. She eyed Jareth suspiciously. "What do you want, Jareth?"_

 _"_ _It's not what I want, it's what you want that troubles me," Jareth answered._

 _"_ _I want nothing from you!" Sarah cried._

 _"_ _Is that so?" he asked, "Even for your dear father?"_

 _Sarah stopped short, eyes brimming already at the sudden realization that he knew. This man, this powerful evil thing, knew the inner-workings of her life and had knowledge of her weakness. She was furious. "How do you know about that?" she demanded._

 _"_ _Goblins are known for their humor and craftsmanship, but keeping their mouths shut is not one of their stronger traits. A friend of yours came to me with a good amount of concern for your situation," Jareth explained, "He said you would not summon me to help you. Why is that?"_

 _Sarah looked at the stones beneath her feet and replied, "You wouldn't do anything to truly help me, at least not without a price."_

 _Jareth smiled, "Sarah darling, no one does anything for free."_

 _She met his mischievous gaze with a withered look, and for the first time, he actually saw some sort of fear in her eyes. He pitied her instantly. He straightened himself out and outstretched his hand, a crystal appearing and spinning in the center of his palm._

 _"_ _Take it," he said, "And it will cure your father."_

 _"_ _What's the catch?" Sarah asked, eyeing the crystal with shining eyes._

 _"_ _Only one provision," Jareth stated, "A deal, if you'd be willing to strike up with me. Come and stay here, in my palace, for a year. During your time here you will be treated as an honored guest and enjoy entertainment and pleasure that nothing in your world could ever give you. If at the end of that year, you decide that my company is still unfavorable to you, you may go. However, the price of your leaving will cost you all memories of this place, including the memories of the friends you have made here," Jareth came closer to the trembling girl, "But, if you find at end of your stay, that you wish to remain, you may do so. Your soul, however, will be eternally bound to the Underground and you will never be able to return to the above world again."_

 _Sarah was silent. Enraged by his audacity, his coquettishness, and his assumption of power over her, she seethed quietly before him. She was humbled by her need for his help. Knowing that it may be her father's only chance, she was torn. Spend her life miserable and memory-less above ground, spend eternity with Jareth, or live without her father. None seemed like a good alternative. She looked away from the goblin king, a pain showing in her face and a maturity that definitely wasn't there the last time they met. Jareth felt sorry that he was toying with her in this manner, but it was his nature, and he knew nothing else._

 _Jareth waved his hand and the crystal disappeared._

 _"_ _You needn't decide today," he explained, "but my deal will only stand for a short time," he began to walk away from her, the edges of his world blurring and shifting. Sarah became dizzy and felt herself being pulled away from the scene. "When you make your choice, you know how to call me," the goblin king called as Sarah was thrust back into her body and arose with a start._

* * *

Sarah was alone with her father in the hospital room, the machines beeping quietly. She looked at the time and saw that it was well past midnight. She slowly gathered her book bag and coat and kissed her sleeping father on the forehead. She drove back to her dorm room that night with a feeling of dread. She already knew what she had to do, but doing it would cost her everything, at the very least, her pride.


	3. Chapter 3

The clock above the whiteboard ticked softly, interrupting the clunky, off-beat symphony of coughs, throat-clearings, and sniffles from the twenty students arranged in rows of desks in the classroom. The professor peered wryly over her glasses as she observed the students taking their last and hardest test of the year. Sarah held her head in one hand as she tapped her pencil against the maple vinyl covering the desk and gazed out of the window to her right. Her test half-finished, she concentrated on remembering exactly the words the goblin king had spoken in her dream the night before _. My deal will only stand for a short time_ , he had said. Sarah felt her throat tighten. Her skin practically crawled and an anxiety slowly constrained her ribcage. She looked back down at her paper, the words blurring before her swimming eyes. She took a deep breath and quickly circled random answers for the remaining portion of her test. Standing abruptly, she threw the test down in front of the professor and ran from the room. She didn't care if she failed. She wouldn't be around for at least the next year anyway.

The drive to the hospital seemed to go by faster than usual. All the stoplights were green, paving the way toward her sad fate. She rehearsed exactly what she would say to her father, memorizing it like a monologue for a play. Only it wasn't a play, it was real life. And she had to say goodbye, somehow.

It began to rain lightly, sprinkles spattering the windshield. She parked in an empty parking garage a half-mile from the hospital and decided to walk the rest of the way there. She walked slowly, but with focus. _Father, I'm going away for a while_. She winced. Her heart was full. _Father, I'm going away for a year_.

The hospital loomed up before her, the roof taller than usual and threatening against the backdrop of the rainy sky. She shivered as if she stood before Dracula's castle. A few deep breaths later and she was in the elevator.

The doors opened with a soft hum and she practically crawled to her father's room. He was paler than normal, one hand clutching a tissue that he began coughing into as soon as she entered the room. His eyes lit up when he saw her and he waved silently with his free hand as he coughed deeply. Finally done, he cleared his throat and said, "Hi, Sarah, how was the final?"

Tears were already starting to form in the corners of her eyes. She held them back and worked up a smile.

"It went really well," she answered, "I think I passed."

"That's great, honey," Robert smiled, "Only one year left."

Sarah shifted her weight to one foot and looked down at the speckled linoleum.

"Actually, it might be a bit longer," she said quietly.

Robert's brow furrowed, his look of fatherly concern overwhelming her. A small tear slipped through. He saw it, of course. "Sarah, honey, what's wrong?"

She sat down slowly in the lilac armchair next to his bed and took his hand. "It's just, one of my professors told me about this great opportunity she thinks I'd be interested in," Sarah stalled, searching his eyes for expression, "And it would be really great for me dad, for my future and everything."

"Well, what is it?" he asked, excitedly.

"It would be traveling to a remote part of South America and doing field work there, only they don't have cell service there and mail would take forever to get to you and I don't know if that's something I can do," she let out with a slight whimper to her voice. Another tear fell.

Robert's face softened and he gripped her hand tighter.

"Oh, Sarah," he consoled, "You don't have to worry about me. This would be good for your career! Think of the opportunity. How many undergraduate cultural anthropologists get to say they did something like this in their first four years of college! Honey, you have to do it."

Sarah smiled softly at his show of support. She patted his hand gently. "It would be for a whole year, dad."

His expression shifted, like he had been hit unexpectedly. He hadn't anticipated that. "Oh," he mouthed, turning slightly in his hospital bed, "When does this trip start?"

"This weekend," she said, "The trip was full and she had a cancelation. The spot is mine if I want it."

Robert stared at the floor, obviously ill at ease. Sarah released his hand, her eyes turned away from him. "See, it's too much," she said.

"Oh honey, no. I just didn't' expect that," he explained. "If this is going to be good for you, then you should do it. And I…" he trailed off, eyes searching hers, "I will hold on until you get back. I owe you that."

Sarah held back her tears and stood up, leaned over him and kissed his forehead.

"I have a feeling you're going to get better very soon," she whispered.

"I love you, Sarah." he said.

"I love you too, Dad."

The last few days went by quickly for Sarah and her father. She wished his situation wasn't so dire, that he wasn't showing signs of fading. Maybe then, she could've stalled the inevitable. But his skin was graying; he was coughing deeper and deeper every day. She saw him slipping away from her and it frightened her. If she didn't act quickly, he would be gone.

Her bags were packed, her credit cards and bank account frozen. All of her belongings were in storage. Her friends thought she was taking her father to a remote cancer-treatment facility for a year. She had covered all her bases. She drove to the hospital for the last time, luggage swaying in the trunk along the rain-covered road. It hadn't stopped raining for three days. She pulled up to the hospital and went up to her father's room. It was time to say goodbye.

He was smiling when she entered, even though he knew it was her last day in town. He hugged her tightly when she came over to his bedside.

"My little girl is going on such a big adventure. I wish I could come with you," he sighed.

"I don't think the weather would agree with you much, dad," she laughed, "You always did love the cold."

He gazed at her with shining eyes, "I would be happy wherever you are."

She shook her head at him, "Things will get better soon, I promise. And I'll write, although I can't promise the letters will make it."

"I'm sure you'll do everything you can," he said.

"I will." she nodded.

"When does your flight leave?" he asked.

"In a couple of hours. I'm going to take the car to the house and leave it there. I'll take a cab to the airport," she explained.

"Well, if I magically get the urge to get out of this bed, I'll go make sure the Broden boys down the street aren't egging your little Prius," he chuckled.

She laughed with him. Their voices quieted and a solemnity took hold of the room. They both sensed it was time for her to go. Sarah hugged him tightly.

"I have to go now, dad," she whispered.

He hugged her back fiercely. "I love you so much, sweetheart. Please be safe over there."

"I will." She promised. She walked toward the door, looking back at him for what felt like the last time.

"I love you, dad," she said.

And then she was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Fighting back tears, Sarah rushed down the hall and threw herself into an empty elevator. She practically ran through the lobby and out the doors. Starting her car, she sped away from the hospital. The streets were clear and she made it to her childhood home in no time. She unloaded the car, and carried her bags inside the house.

The place was almost empty. Irene had taken practically everything when she left. Sarah still harbored bitter thoughts about her former stepmother, only because she had been so quick to abandon Robert when things got too hard for her. She brought Toby to visit the Christmas before, and that was the last they had they seen of them.

Sarah wandered through the empty rooms, memorizing the feel of the place, trying to engrain it into her memory so she would always have it. She lugged her bags upstairs and opened the door to her old room. It was still the same; her white headboard and orange canopy, the bookshelves, the teddy bears, the knick-knacks. She smiled gently as she lifted the music box of the dancing girl that her mother had given her. She put it carefully in one of her bags. She had lost the copy of The Labyrinth some time ago and had been unable to find it. She did one last search for it, just in case. Finding nothing, she shut the door to her room and went across the hall to her father's bedroom.

This is where it had started, years ago. She stood next to the empty crib now, staring down at the bare little mattress, missing how young she was, missing that sense of adventure. She had believed so much in magic, then. That had all faded away. Even after being submerged in another world, there are some things in real-life that take away all your innocence. She missed feeling like anything could happen. Now all she felt was pain.

She glanced at herself in the mirror above the dresser, the sunflowers painted onto the glass breaking up her image into fragments. If she could just get that little girl back—if she could just become that carefree again. She grabbed a hold of her bags and took a breath in. The room was strangely quiet, as if it anticipated her coming words:

"Goblin king, goblin king, wherever you may be: I summon you now to stand here before me!" she cried.

There was a clap of thunder outside and the rain poured heavier. The tree branches began hitting the windowpanes, just like it did that night. The tiny goblins began to appear in the bookcase, beneath the bedspread, and under the bed—just like they did that night. Sarah felt fear creeping up her spine, but she pushed it down, told herself to be strong. She saw the owl outside, flapping its wings wildly, beating against the window panes. He pushed into the room, and she watched his shadow spill onto the floor in human form. She looked up to see him standing there, sparkling, and wearing a deep ebony coat and high collar. His ruffled shirt cascaded down his chest. He smiled, deeply.

"Hello, Sarah," he greeted, grinning.

She lowered her head, and pulled her bags up from the ground.

"I accept your offer," she stated firmly, "Do what you promised."

Jareth produced a crystal and held it in front of her. He waved his free hand over the translucent orb. Sarah could suddenly see the image of her father in the crystal, and the doctor with him.

 _"_ _I don't know what to tell you, Robert," the doctor said, "It seems the treatment is taking effect. You're fighting back_." _Robert smiled weakly, looking up at the doctor. "I think we should run some more tests, but it's safe to say you're on the path to recovery."_

 _"_ _It's like magic," Robert said._

Sarah's eyes filled as the image in the crystal faded. She reached out toward the orb just as it burst and disappeared. She cried out, but was silenced by Jareth moving toward her. He held out his hand, locking eyes with her. Sarah hesitantly reached out and took his hand. The room began to shake, and her vision blurred. Everything around her seemed to melt into dancing colors and shapes, her ears seemed full like she was underwater, and she felt the sensation of falling even though she was still standing on two feet. Through all the chaos, she could still see the goblin king, eyes on her, and smiling triumphantly.


	5. Chapter 5

***Thanks for keeping up with this story, everyone. I appreciate the views. More to come!***

* * *

The air around her buzzed with what felt like electricity and her hair floated out around her face. Sarah was shaking with fear and confusion, currents of warm wind pushing past her body as if she were being pummeled forward with a great velocity. She looked at Jareth, who was calm amidst the discord. He didn't blink, wince, or even seem to be breathing as the Earth swallowed them up and pushed them down into darkness.

When she could finally see, she found herself standing outside the castle at the center of the Goblin City. It was dark there too, and all the goblins were probably asleep in their little ramshackle houses. That would explain the unnatural peace that had settled atop the slumbering town. She looked around at the dinky buildings and bulky fountain in the square, eyeing the clumsy and uneven cobblestone that she now stood on. The city still looked strange to her, but she found her heart softened by the childish manufacturing that had produced the awkward structures and streets.

Sarah hadn't let go of the goblin king's hand, and was now using it for physical support as she lent him some of her body weight. She found she could hardly stand. The traveling had taken much of her strength, and her stomach folded in on itself. She felt she would be sick if she stood here much longer. Jareth saw her pale complexion and pained expression.

"Our kind of traveling is more of an acquired taste," he explained, "Come, we will get you settled in immediately."

Sarah gratefully followed him up the path and toward the castle steps, her fatigue making a witty retort near impossible. Jareth took a mental note of her exhaustion and didn't patronize her with his gloating, as he had originally planned. His banter would be wasted on her in this state.

They reached the gargantuan palace doors and two goblin guards on the night shift bowed gracelessly and hastily opened the doors for them. They gawked at Sarah as she weakly followed behind their king, their jaws hanging as if on broken hinges. However, they snapped their mouths shut in a knee-jerk reaction in response to one ominous glare from Jareth.

Once inside, Sarah allowed herself to look around and take in the sight of the vast foyer. It was just as she remembered it. The castle didn't contain much furniture. She had been too busy the last time she was here to really notice. But she saw it all now, the uneven stones that coated the floor and walls creating a rough texture that was very telling of both the craftsmen who had assembled the palace and the king who lived in it, the massive, iron chandeliers that hung from the raised ceilings that provided light by dozens of waxy candles, the tattered linen banners that lined the walls embroidered with symbols and crests that she didn't understand. Jareth led her toward a hallway to the right and up a flight of stone steps. Sarah was amazed at how much of the palace was crafted from stone and thought that it must get very cold in the winter, if the Goblin Kingdom even had winter as she knew it.

They were in another corridor now, and Jareth approached a petite goblin maid, outfitted in a rudimentary muslin gown and bonnet. She curtsied awkwardly as the king approached.

"Hattie, if you could show this lady to the Moonlight Suite, please. She is very tired from her journey," Jareth said smoothly. Sarah was startled as his politeness. She had always thought he would be the kind of king to speak cruelly to his servants.

Hattie nodded her head and waved Sarah along. Jareth fell back and watched them go. She made it a point not to glance back at him as she followed the maid down the corridor and up another set of stairs. They made it to the end of a hall and the maid opened a door onto a lofty suite obviously fitted for a noblewoman. The bed was larger than any Sarah had ever see, its frame cut from cherry wood and a rich, velvety green canopy enveloping it. The rug spread underneath the bed was a lush cream, with golden fringe lining each end. A vanity stood against the wall across from the bed, matching the bed frame. A tufted stool stood beside it, with wrought iron legs painted gold. The mirror was dazzling and framed in ivory. Sarah wandered over to the vanity and inspected the vials and glass bottles arranged on its tabletop. They contained perfumes and creams she had never heard of. One of the creams had flecks of real gold folded into it.

Sarah noted the extravagant oil paintings that adorned the walls. Their frames were gilded, like much of the fixtures that decorated the room, and their scenes all depicted green landscapes and delicate ladies at play. There was a bathroom to the right of the vanity, which Sarah thought oddly modern and not in keeping with the tone of the palace. Hattie, who had been silent while Sarah explored her new home, piped up at the sight of Sarah's confusion.

"I believe his majesty added that for you," she blurted, "We never seen nothin' like it before."

Sarah nodded slowly as she regarded the bathroom with relief. It had a tub and shower, and a modern toilet as well. _Thank god_ , she thought. This whole time she thought she'd have to relieve herself using a hole in the ground. Or a bucket. Sarah closed the door to the bathroom and looked over at Hattie. Upon seeing the lost look in the girl's eyes, Hattie went over to a chest and pulled out a night dress and robe.

"You must be tired, lady," she said as she smoothed the clothes out and laid them on the bed, "I will let you wash and change, and I'll come wake you when it's light."

Sarah ran her hand over the silky night gown and nodded sleepily. Hattie left the room, closing the thick door softly behind her. Sarah changed into the silken night robes and splashed her face with water in the bathroom sink. She searched the drawers for a toothbrush and was surprised to find one waiting for her. Jareth must've really done his homework, she thought. She finished washing up and went over to the stately bed. She pulled back the satin bedspread and slid in between the sheets. Sarah blew the candle out on the nightstand beside her and let darkness wash over her.

It was only then that she allowed herself to finally cry. She fell asleep with tears still clinging to her lashes.

* * *

Jareth sat in an elegant leather armchair in a corner of his private study, watching the flames leap and dance in the marble fireplace before him. He held one hand to his chin; the other held a leather whip that he tapped rhythmically against an arm of the chair. He couldn't believe she'd actually agreed to come with him. If he truly knew her, he would've known that she would've done anything to save her father. But he didn't truly know her, this girl he met as a snarky teenager that bested him at his own game. He had watched her before, admiring her attitude and sense of self, but those qualities did not make her who she was. This he knew. He had been obsessed with her all these years, but he did not even truly understand the subject of his infatuation.

He stood and paced slowly, his leather boots treading over the plush patterned carpet. What was he to do now? She was here, just as he had wanted. But he hadn't really planned what to do next. He didn't think get he would get this far. He wanted Sarah to feel comfortable here, to treat the castle as if it were her own home. That would be the only way she would agree to stay after a year's time. But how would he do this? She was so full of loathing for him and seemed to hold a testy disposition that wouldn't allow her to be agreeable toward anybody—except her friends. Jareth paused and stood before the fire, thinking.

When she was here last, Sarah had made friends with some of his subjects. Not his finest subjects, just a few loners that clung to the edges of the labyrinth. He hadn't thought much of them, but she had seen something in them and had befriended them. She even called on them from the Above World whenever she was in need of their kind words or advice. So history dictated that she could indeed be befriended. Maybe this mediocre group of misfits was the answer to his conundrum. If he could enliven her with their company, perhaps she might take a shine to him. Or at least be able to talk to him without spitting in his direction.

He abruptly rang a bell to summon a servant into the study. A small goblin came hobbling in. Jareth penned three notes and handed them to the servant.

"Have these delivered, promptly," he ordered, "That is all."

Jareth waved his hand and the servant bowed and left the room. Jareth looked into the fireplace once more and began to see his plan coming together quite nicely.


	6. Chapter 6

***Thanks for everyone who has followed the story so far, feel free to leave any reviews you would like.***

The next morning, Sarah was awakened by Hattie tripping over a rug and smacking her head on the vanity stool. Sarah jumped from the bed and rushed over to the goblin, helping her up. Hattie laughed nervously, wanting to impress Sarah but unable to avoid her clumsy goblin nature.

"Sorry, lady," she apologized, "I didn't mean to wake you like this."

"It's alright, Hattie," Sarah replied, checking the maid's head for injuries, "You're not bleeding. Are you okay?"

Hattie began to gather up the items she had been carrying timidly and shook off Sarah's concern, "I promise I'm okay, lady."

Sarah accepted this reassurance and went over to the bathroom to wash up. Hattie busied herself with laying out Sarah's clothes for the day and arranging the bedding to look just as it had the night before. Sarah came out of the bathroom and was startled to see the forest green gown laid out for her on the bed.

"What's that?" She asked Hattie.

Hattie blinked, thinking it was quite obvious what it was.

"A dress, I think, lady," she responded.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yes I know it's a dress, Hattie, but is that really what you expect me to wear?"

Hattie nodded eagerly, explaining as she lifted the dress from the bed and held it against her own form, "Yes, lady, the king picked out all your clothes 'specially before you got here. There's a whole closet full." With this, she hopped over to the closet and opened it for Sarah. Billowing tulle, silk, and taffeta spilled out and Hattie struggled to contain the wild mess of material and close the door once more.

Sarah felt her ears growing hot. Of course, Jareth had selected a wardrobe for her. Of course he had known that she would be uncomfortable in such finery, and he sought to exploit her embarrassment for his own gain. Well, she would see about that. She opened up one of her bags that she had brought with her from home and pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a graphic tee. To the dismay of Hattie, who very much liked the fluffy skirts and corsets stowed away in the closet, Sarah went into the bathroom to change into her otherworldly clothes. She came out wearing a victorious grin. Jareth would be angry that she chose to wear her own clothes and refused the beautiful gowns that he had so carefully selected for her.

She decided then to make the next year the hardest year of his life. Their deal was that she would stay there, but he didn't specify that she had to _behave_. No, Sarah would do anything _but_ behave while she was here. She would be the most annoying pain in his royal ass he had ever encountered. Maybe he would send her back early just so she would leave him be. She grinned widely at this thought. She let Hattie comb her hair, after much arguing and eye-rolling, and then slipped on her shoes and walked with the tiny maid down to the breakfast room.

Jareth was already there, one leg crossed over the other and reading a leather-bound book over a pair of small spectacles. He held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and barely looked up as Sarah entered the room. She was amazed at how different this room looked from what she had seen of the castle. The table was gold and had a glass top adorned with dainty china and silver cutlery. Candelabras stood in the corners and there were several vases of flowers throughout the room, although they were strange and alien flowers that she had never seen before. Hattie pulled a chair back for her, and Sarah took a seat at the far end of the table, directly across from the king. He glanced at her for hardly a moment, and then went back to his book, titled The Complete History of Human War.

Without looking up from his book, he asked Sarah, "How did you sleep?"

Sarah was already annoyed that he hadn't noticed her brash choice of dress, but she certainly wasn't going to let him know that. She responded politely, "It was fine, thank you."

He paused from his reading to peer at her over his spectacles, "I do believe that's the first time you've ever thanked me for anything."

Sarah sniffed and laid a cloth napkin over her lap, "What have I ever had to thank you for in the past?"

Jareth let a smile tug at one corner of his mouth as he pushed his glasses up further and went back to reading. A servant came in and poured Sarah a cup of coffee and something that looked like ham and eggs, only they seemed to be grey in color. Sarah examined her food with a fork, not tasting anything. Jareth lowered his book and watched her.

"It tastes rather the same, although it may take some getting used to," he stated from the end of the table.

Sarah didn't respond to this, but instead continued to poke and prod at the meat and eggs until Jareth grew annoyed and sighed loudly.

"I promise you, it will not kill you," he said, clearly irked.

"It looks…icky," Sarah complained, like a toddler refusing vegetables.

"The only thing icky in this room is that ghastly scrap of cotton adorning your torso," Jareth retorted, lifting one magnificent eyebrow.

Sarah rolled her eyes at him and looked down at her shirt. It had an image of Britney Spears on it from her music video of "Hit Me Baby One More Time."

"What," Sarah began, "Not a Britney fan?"

Jareth looked puzzled, "Who is this Britney?"

"She's a very popular singer in my world," Sarah explained, "Or at least, she was."

Jareth sniffed and went back to his book, "Must be very talented to have young women wearing her image on their bodies." he trailed off, reading about human on human bloodshed, and a few seconds later mumbled judgingly: "Humans."

Sarah allowed herself to finish most of the food while Jareth read silently across the way. After ten minutes had passed in this way, Jareth finally closed his book and set it down on the tabletop. He dabbed his mouth with a cloth napkin and pulled out a small notebook and pen. He pushed his spectacles up once more and gazed over at Sarah.

"I thought it might be wise to go over a few ground rules," he stated matter-of-factly, "Just a few house rules, if you will."

Sarah narrowed her eyes and shot him a stinging look of detest that she hoped he could feel from all the way across the table. She straightened up in her chair and retorted mockingly, "By all means, continue."

Jareth held her irritated gaze for one moment, as if about to encourage her to engage further into their banter, but he thought better of it and looked back down at his notebook.

"Firstly," he began, "You will receive a comprehensive tour of the castle to help you learn the various rooms and halls. Hattie can probably see to that," he glanced over at Hattie, who was manning the buffet and ready to dish out seconds should anyone ask. She nodded eagerly, clearly happy to be of service to the king's guest.

"Secondly," he continued, "You will be allowed to explore outside of the castle grounds, but you may not go past the city gates. There is only one way out of the city and it is through the guarded gate you may well be familiar with, considering you and your brazen friends destroyed my guard the last time you were here."

He eyed her over his glasses and Sarah shrugged innocently, avoiding his gaze. "Either way," he continued, "the guard has since been repaired and has been programmed to keep you from exploring too far."

Sarah's ears grew hot as she felt her anger rising. She bit her lip and seethed while Jareth continued reading off his rules.

"Thirdly, the only place off limits to you within the castle grounds are my personal chambers," he gazed over at her with a small smile playing at the corner of his lips, "Unless of course, you have a need to utilize them for any reason."

Sarah scoffed and looked over at Hattie for support, who was blushing behind a serving tray in the corner. Jareth chuckled to himself and closed his notebook.

"These are the only rules I have laid for now, but perhaps you have questions regarding your visit that I have not yet heard."

Sarah folded her hands into her lap and cocked her head to one side.

"As a matter of fact, I do," she responded, "How do you expect me to stay here for a complete year without exploring beyond the city gates?"

"There will be opportunities for supervised travel, not to fret."

"And companionship?" Sarah questioned, "Do you expect me to entertain myself this entire year?"

Jareth smiled.

"Of course not," he replied, "I will be here, as well as the goblins who work in the castle. And I do believe you'll like what I have for you next," he teased.

Sarah raised her brows inquisitively.

"I've thought it over, and I have decided to invite your friends to come and stay with us here in the castle," he stated, watching Sarah's face light up, "Temporarily, of course."

Sarah practically jumped from her seat. She had missed her friends so badly these last years. Simply being able to talk to them from her mirrors at home hadn't been enough. They had shared an adventure that most people only read about in storybooks. The thought of seeing them again filled her with warmth. She couldn't suppress her grin, and she didn't care if the goblin king was pleased with himself because of it.

"How long will they be here?" Sarah asked.

"A month at most," he replied. "The Goblin Kingdom holds an annual summer festival to welcome the warm months. It's right around the corner. Your friends are invited to the royal festival and then are expected to stay throughout the month of June."

Sarah felt a brief happiness like she hadn't felt in a long time. She allowed herself to relax, just a bit. She locked eyes with Jareth just long enough to mutter a small "Thank You," before averting her gaze once again.

"I believe we've covered the necessities for today," Jareth stated. "Why don't I have Hattie give you a proper tour of the castle and I will see you again at dinner this evening, hmm?" he stood and motioned to Hattie, who came sprinting over to clear Sarah's plates.

Sarah found it very hard to be a pest after he had just given her such wonderful news. Maybe she would start her devious game the next day, and let Jareth have this one small victory.


	7. Chapter 7

"This way, lady," Hattie called out from down the hall. Sarah had hardly finished her odd looking breakfast before the scrawny little goblin maid had whisked away her plates and bounced down the hall, ready to give her a tour of the castle. Sarah scurried down the hallway after her, tossing her hair up into a messy bun as she ran. She suspected this tour would be fast-paced.

"What are we seeing first?" Sarah asked, almost excitedly.

Hattie grinned. "Well the castle has four floors. The first floor is where you came in, but there's a floor beneath that where we keep the cellar and pantry in order. The main floor has the dining room, ballroom, library, throne room, and common rooms. The second floors got your guest bedrooms, studies, meeting halls, and lounges. And the tippity top all belongs to Kingsy." Hattie smiled and squinted her eyes, "none of us goes up there lady. Not even you."

Sarah chortled, "Trust me, Hattie, I wouldn't be going up there even if I wanted to." Hattie giggled like a girl in the schoolyard sharing a secret and started down the hallway, waving Sarah along.

They quickly went through the dining rooms and kitchen area; and Sarah got a peek at the cellar where all the wine and liquor was kept. The goblins brewed their own spirits, which Sarah found instantly heartwarming. From what little of the goblins she knew, she knew that they were makers above all else.

Next, they viewed the throne room. Sarah expected some frightening deeply buried memory to come back to her, but she found the room mostly barren. A few stray chickens strutted and clucked, but otherwise, the room was nonthreatening. Then Hattie led Sarah down a curved corridor and through an archway into the ballroom. The room was spacious and threw itself far away from the entry. It was a lengthy stretch of room, with ten giant chandeliers spread out and dangling from the rafters. There were several odd paintings adorning the walls, darkly colored prints depicting goblins and landscapes from the kingdom. More banners hung on the walls and from the beams that ran across the ceiling. There were a few stained glass windows against the back wall, and some rolled up Persian rugs bundled in the corners next to some very dusty candelabras. The whole place looked dirty, unused, and haunted. Sarah shivered. Hattie frowned.

"We don't use this room much, but I 'spose it'll get cleaned up real nice for the summer festival."

Sarah walked the length of the room slowly, fingers grazing over the dusty stone walls. "So this festival," she inquired, "Who's all invited?"

Hattie looked surprised, as if it were a silly question. "Every one, lady." She answered.

"Every one?" Sarah asked, "Like, every one of the goblins in the city?"

"In the kingdom," Hattie nodded.

Sarah looked surprised. She didn't think Jareth would stand to be around that many fumbling, clumsy, little things. But perhaps there were others that lived in the kingdom that weren't goblins, people that were more like her and Jareth. She knew Jareth wasn't human but what exactly was he?

"Hattie," She began," are there any subjects in the kingdom who look like me? Or Jareth?" She asked.

Hattie opened her mouth to answer but as she did a goblin came rushing into the room, completely covered in cake flour, and a cracked egg on the top of his head.

"Hattie!" He screamed. "You gots to help me, the oven exploded."

He was dripping egg all over the stone floor and Hattie began to scold him immediately.

"Rune!" She cried, "You're gettin' yolk all over the floor! How many times have I told you not to use the oven without Grindly!" She looked over at Sarah apologetically. "So sorry lady, this is my brother Rune. He works in the kitchen but can't work an oven to save his hide. I'll have to go take care of this, but wander the castle as you please and I'll meet you back in your room before dinner to help you dress."

She ran off down the hall with Rune, and Sarah was left alone. She shuddered and clutched her arms around her body, the cold stone walls of the ballroom disagreeing with her. She left that room and went off to find another. She stumbled upon the library, nestled in between the back exit and a linen closet. She had expected a beastly, impressive room lined with books as far as the eye can see, but instead she found a room not much bigger than hers, filled with exactly five bookshelves and one armchair. It looked more like a used bookstore than it did a library. She skimmed the titles; not recognizing many. Most of them were biographies and histories, all on goblins and goblin cities. There was light coming in through one large window between two shelves, and a lamp stood in the corner. By way of light, that was her lot. She liked he room anyway, somehow, for its humble nature and lived in feel. She closed the door to the library softly and wandered toward the back door.

This door led her around back right past the kitchen windows where there was a small vegetable garden and a tiny goblin bench. A few wheelbarrows were parked around, filled with carrots and potatoes and some greens. She followed a tiny path down to a lake lined with soft grey stones. A few other worldly looking swans floated on the lakes surface and some goblin children played not far off. Sara liked this place instantly. She wandered the gardens for a while, observing the odd shaped flowers and shrubs and the alien looking fruit trees that had been planted in lanes along the paths. After a while she went back inside and into the kitchen, where a nice little kitchen goblin got her a glass of water and an apple. She downed the water and took the apple with her as she walked upstairs to the second floor.

There wasn't much to excite her on the second floor. It was mostly rows and rows of generic looking guest rooms or offices—some rooms were simply empty when she peeked in. Sara grew bored quickly and strolled back to her own room. Once inside, she sat on the edge of the massive bed and tossed the apple she had been given in between her hands. She entertained herself this way for a few moments, throwing the apple up a bit higher each time to see if she could catch it. Sara chucked the apple the highest she could, and was startled when she caught not an apple, but a crystal ball in her small hands.

She turned it this way and that in her hands and held it close to her face, inspecting its perfect and round surface. Although the crystal was completely clear, it seemed opalescent in color somehow, as if it were reflecting sources of light that were all around that she couldn't see with her human eyes. Suddenly, the crystal became cloudy with a silvery pink, peppered with glitter. She watched closely as the colors melted away to reveal the image of a ballroom bathed completely in white and soft pastels. Strings of pearls and diamonds hung from the rafters and golden chandeliers dipped down into the scene below. Spread out throughout the room were beautifully masked dancers, drowning in taffeta and silks, adorned with jewels and trinkets. They almost all wore masks of some sort, which were alarming to look at but fit somehow in their strange and twisted gala. Some of these dancers broke away from the crowd to join others who were lounging against pillows and cushions gathered on the floor. They drank from goblets and plucked berries and chocolates from plates and fed them to one another. The women were laughing, the men were toasting. Everywhere, there was dancing.

Sara leaned closer toward the crystal, her entire being feeling the pull of familiarity. She had seen this ballroom before. She had eaten the peach and fallen into this very scene. She shivered, but continued to look into the crystal, unable to take her eyes away from the dreamy images. Entering into the ballroom now was Jareth himself, descending a grand staircase with a girl on each arm. He wore a magnificent indigo sequined jacket and his hair had stripes of cerulean colored into it. He held his mask off to the side, as if he didn't particularly need it. The girls beside him crooned and fawned about him, touching his arms, his face, anything they could get of him. He didn't seem to notice. Instead he stared right ahead, his gaze fixed on some part of the ballroom Sara couldn't see. His eyes were intense and determined, and she could almost feel them on her own. A chill rushed through her and her stomach pinched inside her. He was looking at her.

With a gasp, she dropped the crystal and let it fall to the ground. The crystal didn't shatter against the stone flooring, though. Instead, it turned back to an apple and simply rolled across the ground. Sara sat on the bed, staring at the apple, startled but not surprised. _Look into the crystal, and it will show you your dreams_ , he had said that night. She scoffed quietly to herself, "As if he could know anything about my dreams." And although she muttered these confident words to herself, a part of her was uneasy with the truth that he might know better than anyone.


	8. Chapter 8

***A HUGE thanks to everyone for waiting so long for an update. This one's a little long, but hopefully it's well received!****

Sara looked at the golden clock on the wall and sighed. It was already 5 o'clock. She must've fallen asleep after the crystal incident. Any moment now, Hattie would come shuffling in to help her dress for a dinner with Jareth that she'd really rather not endure. She was so exhausted, the events of the last couple days finally caught up to her. She remembered the sorrow-filled face of her father as she said goodbye, his eyes heavy with tears he would wait to let spill until she'd left. Her heart ached, knowing that he didn't have anyone left. If only she had a way to let him know she was safe and thinking of him. She sighed, and sat up in the giant bed. The blankets seemed heavy and suffocating to her. She felt restless and ill at ease. She swung her legs off the bed and jumped down.

She went over to the armoire that she knew was full of tulle and satin and probably an inappropriate amount of glitter. Placing her hands over the doorknobs, she squeezed her eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath to prepare for the striking colors and ridiculous fabrics that would come spilling out. Sara threw open the doors and gaped. The dresses from that morning were all gone, and in their place were much somber choices of dress. There were jeans and shorts folded nicely on the shelves, some t-shirts and blouses hanging side by side, and only a few dresses, each modeled perfectly to fit her personality. No tulle or sequins to be seen. Sara was confused at the change, and knew it had to do with Jareth somehow. But why would he be so kind? She shook off her confusion and drew out a dress from the rack. It was a simple, long-sleeved, wrap-dress in a soft, evergreen velvet. The hem touched the floor, but she didn't mind that it was long. Sara laid the dress out on the bed and waited for Hattie.

She passed the time by examining the bottles and vials atop the vanity table and exploring the contents of its drawers. She opened the right-hand drawer and quickly drew her hand back in surprise. Lying inside the drawer, cushioned atop a bedding of creamy silk, was the little red book about the Labyrinth that her mother had given her when she was just a girl. Sara felt tears prick at her eyes, and she slowly drew the book out from its delicate silk bedding. She opened the cover and saw her mother's note written for her across the fading and yellowed page. A few of her tears fell onto the page and she closed the book, clutching it tight to her chest.

A series of knocks at the door awoke her from her trance. She shoved the book back into the drawer hurriedly and wiped her face.

"Come in," she called.

Hattie skipped into the room holding a stack of fresh towels and a velvet box. "Good evening, lady," she greeted. Without waiting for a reply from Sara, she set the towels down in the bathroom and began straightening up the bed. She clapped her hands in delight when she saw the green dress Sara had chosen to wear. Holding its velvety fabric gingerly between her fingers, she looked over at Sara with eyes half-closed.

"This is a beautiful dress, lady. I'm sure kingsy will be pleased to see you in it."

Sara resisted the urge to throw the dress back in the armoire and simply wear pajamas to dinner instead. She smiled kindly at Hattie, who was only trying to make this situation less difficult for her, she supposed.

"Yes, Hattie, it is beautiful," she began, "But I wonder where all the other dresses went? The ones from before," Sara inquisitively eyed the little goblin maid, who was wringing her hands and swaying slightly from right to left.

"Oh, lady," she said, almost in a whisper, "Kingsy thought you might like these choices better, being a modern girl and all." Hattie beamed, "He used some magic stuff to switch 'em out, I suppose."

Sara nodded slowly to show Hattie that she welcomed the change. Upon seeing her patron in a good mood, Hattie shuffled across the room and slid the black velvet box she'd brought across the marble vanity countertop. She giggled nervously and took a few steps back, watching eagerly as Sara lifted the lid suspiciously.

Inside the box was a thin and delicate gold chain, with a small rose pendant attached. The rose was made of a shimmering crimson ruby, but the gem was too small to be considered gaudy or dramatic in anyway. It was still beautiful though; not too much, but just enough. It was altogether perfect for someone like Sara. She fingered the tiny pendant with her index finger and looked over at Hattie, who was grinning like a little fool.

"Is this from him?" Sara asked quietly.

Hattie nodded excitedly.

Sara closed the lid. She didn't know what to think. This man had taken something from her not once, but twice now. And this time, he'd actually imprisoned her. Keeping her away from her father for an entire year, forcing her into this isolation, however grand of a prison she was trapped in, it was still a prison. And now he had the gall to offer her gifts? To provide her with more comfortable clothing, to invite her friends to stay with her so that she could have a better time. What was his angle? Sara sighed. Hattie laid a hand on her mistress's shoulder.

"He ain't so bad, once you get to know him." The little maid spoke softly.

Sara held back tears, thinking to herself, _I don't want to get to know him_.

A small tapping was heard at the door and a petite servant goblin poked in his head. "Dinner is served," he stated, and he shut the door and scurried away.

Hattie pulled the dress from the bed. "Well, lady," she said, "time to get dressed."

Sara begrudgingly complied.

They dined in a different room than they had that morning. It appeared Jareth liked things to be proper, and a simple breakfast room would not do for any of his dinner feasts. And what a feast it was. A servant piled the table with trays and platters, full of roasted vegetables, butters and breads, an entire baked ham, and a multitude of other side dishes that Sara couldn't indentify. She arrived before the king, and took some time to stand before the grand fireplace at the far end of the room. The walls were paneled and inlaid with quartz, the crown molding painted a shimmering gold. The translucent marble floors had been waxed so clean she could almost see herself in them. Lofty curtains lined the stained glass windows, the windows themselves depicting serene settings of wild roses growing in a field.

Sara wandered around the length of the table, noticing the heavy iron candelabras that sat upon the glass top. Everything was grand, and ridiculously well-kept. Sara thought it odd that such a particular king ruled over such odd and dirty little people.

The double doors swung open and he strode in.

Jareth was wearing black trousers with a crimson peasant blouse. The blouse was tucked in, and he had laced a thin gold belt that resembled a snake through the pant loops. He wore a shimmering ebony jacket that touched the floor. The ruffles of his shirt ran all the way down to his belt buckle. He had lined his eyes, and his hair was prominent and stiff, as always. Sara thought he must have a lot of spare time, to select wardrobe choices such as this.

He pulled out her chair for her and motioned for her to sit. Sara did so, without looking him in the eye. He sat across from her at the far end of the table, and a servant hastened over to pour them both a glass of red wine. Jareth raised his glass.

"A toast," he announced, "to new beginnings."

Sara lifted her glass silently and drank a small sip. She averted her eyes from him. He flicked off this insult and shifted in his chair.

"Did you enjoy your tour of the castle today, Sara?" he asked flatly.

Sara hardly met his gaze and replied, "It was very informative, thank you."

His annoyance grew slightly, and he set his cup down heavily. Carving into the roast, Jareth stole a glance at the girl, who was mashing her vegetables down with a fork. He rolled his eyes. _What a petulant brat_ , he thought to himself.

"And did you perhaps notice the change of wardrobe in you armoire this afternoon?" he asked with a wry smile, hoping to receive some form of thanks from the girl.

Sara nodded her head only once before answering, "Yes. It's all very well, thank you." She proceeded to mix her mashed vegetables with her roast, eyes boring a hole into the tabletop.

Jareth sighed and lowered his head, chuckling softly to himself. There was a long silence before he lifted his head and glared at the ungrateful girl, one magnificent eyebrow raised higher than the other.

"You haven't much changed, precious," he stated, almost in a whisper.

Sara jerked her head up at this, eyes flaring, mouth turned down.

"Neither have you." she retorted quietly.

There was a tinge of sadness to her voice, which made Jareth feel that horrible tug of guilt once more. He tried to soften his expression.

"I have only tried to make you more comfortable, if nothing else." he explained.

"Comfortable?" she snapped, "Comfortable?!"

Jareth rubbed his temple with a gloved forefinger and thumb. _Here we go._

"Do you think comfort is what I felt when you showed up in a dream, bribing me for my own father's health? Do you think I felt comfort when you ripped me from my life and forced me into this prison? Was I comfortable this afternoon when I found my mother's book left for me in my room, after missing it for these past few years? Honestly, do I look comfortable?" she practically screamed, her angry words slicing through the bitter castle air and cracking against the paneled walls. She was standing now, chair flung back, hair vibrating about her shoulders, chest heaving with rage.

Jareth did not answer for some time. When he finally did, his voice was calm. He remained seated, cutting a slice of ham with a fork and knife. One leg crossed over the other. "I understand this must be difficult for you. I understand that to you, the events of the last few days must seem," he stopped, searching for the right word. Then with a knowing look he said, "unfair."

She sat slowly back into her chair, a defeated look on her porcelain face. Jareth continued.

"However, you must understand that things cannot be as you want them. Nothing comes without a price. And you chose to make a deal with me. This is the way things are done." he finished and took a sip from his goblet.

Sara held back childish tears. She knew on some level that he was right. If her time in the Labyrinth trying to save Toby had taught her anything, it was that life was not fair. Life didn't care if you were just a girl, trying your hardest to do the right thing. Life didn't care at all. At the same time, she didn't understand why Jareth had to come to her in the first place. Why couldn't he have left her alone?

Jareth was startled by his prisoner's lack of retort. He expected fiery words, a full on tantrum, but not this exhausted and crumpled Sara he saw before him.

"I suppose," he started, "I suppose that I could do more to make this easier for you. Is there something I can do?"

Sara was surprised by his honest willingness to help. She did not expect this. She turned this over in her mind for a moment before replying.

"If there was a way I could let my father know I was okay, perhaps make sure that he's healing…" she trailed off, her eyes looking past him, her mind elsewhere.

"You can write to him," the king said, "I will provide you with paper and pen. Your letters will remain sealed and I will have them delivered to your father."

Her eyes filled. She nodded softly, shoulders relaxing just a bit.

"Thank you."

Her voice was clear and genuine. Almost warm. Jareth knew she really did mean it this time. He smiled at her, and they finished their dinner without any more arguments.


	9. Chapter 9

**My apologies for waiting so long to upload! I've been moving and settling in to my new place. I hope the length of this one makes up for my tardiness! Side note: I've started spelling Sarah's name with the "H" on the end, as a user had informed me of my previous mistake. Shout out to anyone who has left reviews! I appreciate all your comments. (To the one reviewer that was upset by the way Sarah treats the man who saved her father's life, please be patient. Part of the idea for this story was that Sarah would learn how to be more selfless and grateful, and stop taking the world's abuses so personally. Her lesson will be learned, I promise!)**

 *****As always, I do not own the rights to Labyrinth or any of its characters!*****

In her room that night, Sarah turned Jareth's words over in her mind. She tried to see past his softened gaze, his understanding expression. She tried to see the evil underneath that she knew was there. That fairytale villain from her childhood still remained, beneath his rippling coat and trumped up benevolence. She just knew it. But it was difficult to picture him that way, she admitted to herself. He had saved her father's life. And she'd treated him like some sort of heartless rogue. Perhaps that's what he'd been to her before, but now? She had grown so much since that fateful night years ago, and so had he. Maybe he had changed.

Sarah rolled beneath the sheets of her enormous bed restlessly. Unable to sleep, she leaned over and opened the top drawer of the nightstand beside her. She pulled the strange, shape shifting apple from the drawer and turned it over in her hands. How had it changed earlier? Had Jareth enchanted it somehow, knowing that she would take it from the kitchen staff at some point during her day? It wasn't the first time he'd enchanted a fruit, she thought to herself. She gripped the apple firmly in her hand and tried to remember the dream. The feeling of floating, the sashaying of tulle and satin, the way her entire being felt weightless, submerged in that drowsy depiction of fantasy and mirth. It was perfectly created for her, that dream.

She shivered. It chilled her to think that he knew the inner workings of her mind, her fantasies and wishes. He had known all along the things she had wished for in those naïve dreams of hers, the breathless desperations of a girl who was no more than a child privileged to believe that someone was listening. But in her case, he was listening. He was always listening. Her hands grew cold. She thought of the peach and the dream, and she thought of the waltz with him and the way she finally felt like a character from one of her books. But she thought of something else too.

Being in that dream had made her realize exactly what she didn't want. All those years waiting for some princely hero to sweep her into a rose-tinged romance were a waste. That wasn't what life was supposed to be like. What she truly wanted was something real. She wanted to protect her family, to stand up for herself and her beliefs, and to never lose sight of what was important. She had almost lost all of that in Jareth's perfect dream. Sarah had broken through then, had she'd keep pushing now.

The apple felt warm beneath her skin and she held it up to her face. Its surface changed before her eyes to that shimmering, translucent crystal again. Only this time, it didn't show her the ballroom, it showed her something else. She saw herself and Toby. She saw her father there, seated in a chair next to Christmas tree. It was a holiday sometime in the future. Toby was older, almost a teen. They opened gifts and exchanged hugs. And Sarah saw something else too—a tiny golden rose necklace laced around her neck. She narrowed her eyes to be sure, but it was there. What did it mean she wondered? Perhaps it was just another one of Jareth's tricks, to show her something so perfect and then remind her that she would never truly be rid of him.

As her breathing slowed and she began to get tired, the crystal slowly morphed back into an apple again. She fell asleep, and the apple rolled from her limp hand, off of the bed, out of the room and down the hall where it turned a corner, entered a room, and jumped into the waiting hand of the goblin king sitting at his desk. Jareth grinned before lifting the apple to his lips and taking one big, delicious bite.

The sun climbed brightly over the horizon the next morning, its streaming light shining in through Sarah's windows and waking her earlier than she was used to. She groaned something inaudible and rolled over, shoving her face between the sumptuous pillows. She had never been a morning person.

Sarah drifted back to sleep, but it wasn't long before the birds of the Underground began their chortled and mangled version of a melody. Sarah sighed and got out of bed. She wouldn't be getting anymore sleep that morning. She peered at the clock on the mantle. Lord help her, it was hardly half past six in the morning. Grumbling incoherent curses, Sarah stumbled over to the bathroom adjoining her suite and closed the door. Not long after, the door to Sarah's room creaked open just a sliver, and a furry, chittering goblin came teetering in.

He was round and had stubby little legs and arms, and two large purple eyes. He very much resembled a pom pom, if that pom pom had been dunked several times in dirty dishwater. He sniffed curiously around the room, whispering gibberish to himself all the while. The bathroom knob turned, and Sarah came out, wearing a bathrobe and towel drying her hair. The little creature dove, unseen, into the armoire in fear. Sarah moved toward the armoire to select an outfit for the day. She stopped when she saw both the bedroom door and the armoire door were ajar.

"Hello," she called out, her eyes shifting around the room. If Jareth was playing tricks on her, she'd much rather suffer through them while clothed. She shrugged and pulled open the armoire door. She screamed as the furry little goblin jumped out toward her and ran across the room, wrapped in a silky scarf that he must've tangled himself in. Sarah had pushed herself up against the opposite wall, thinking that what she saw must've been a very large goblin rat. As she calmed down, she got a better look. The tiny thing was shivering in a corner, all tangled up in the scarf, eyes wide with fear.

"It's okay," Sarah said, "It's okay," she repeated softly as she moved slowly toward it. The tiny goblin tensed up as if to run and Sarah stopped. "Let me help you," she said. It relaxed enough to let her unwind the scarf from its frail form. "There now," she declared, "isn't that better?" The little goblin gleefully chittered and snuggled up against her ankles. Sarah reached down and pet the top of his head. "What's your name?" she asked, and when he answered in a series of clicks and whispy purrs she stated, "I'll have to think of something to call you that I can pronounce." She patted his head once more and stood up.

The little creature darted between Sarah's legs as she worked her way around the room, getting ready for the day. From the armoire she selected a long, dark gold skirt and a flowing white blouse to tuck into it. She strapped some brown leather sandals to her feet and leaned over the vanity, looking into the mirror as she smoothed down her hair. As she began to straighten back up, the little rose necklace that Jareth had sent up to her caught her eye. She reached out a hand slowly to grab it, but hesitated. Would accepting a gift from him mean that he somehow won? Sarah pulled her hand back and shook her head softly.

She left the room, the tiny goblin following her and the necklace still left sitting on the vanity tabletop.

She nearly ran into Hattie who was hurtling down the hall outside her room in a frenzied state. She carried an armful of folded linens, which she proceeded to drop when Sarah surprised her.

"Oh, Lady!" she cried apologetically she crouched down and began to gather up the sheets and bedspreads, "I didn't see you, I'm so sorry!"

Sarah kneeled down to help the frightened maid. "It's okay, I'm sorry I startled you," Sarah apologized.

Hattie stood up and tucked a loose hair beneath her maid's cap. "I was just coming to tell you that breakfast is ready. Kingsy isn't down yet, but I expect he'll be along shortly." Hattie reached out a hand and petted the silky material of Sarah's skirt. "Oh I quite like this one, Lady," she crooned as she swayed softly from side to side.

Sarah smiled, "Yes, it is nice. I suppose Jareth has good taste."

Hattie blushed, "I'd say so. Kingsy loves his textiles, he does."

Just then, the tiny goblin rushed out from beneath Sarah's skirt and sniffed Hattie's ankles curiously. Hattie leapt back and gave a little squeal. Because she was so small, Sarah's little friend came up nearly to Hattie's waist.

"Who is that?" Hattie cried as she backed a few feet away.

"I have no idea," Sarah answered, "He just wandered into my room this morning. I've been trying to think of what to call him."

Hattie shivered and gulped, "Perhaps you could call him Killer."

Sarah chuckled, "I don't think he has a mean bone in his tiny goblin body."

Hattie shook her head and mumbled a goodbye as she shuffled away down the hall. Sarah reached down and patted the little creature's head. She made her way down the dining room. Breakfast was already served—pancakes with fruit and cream. There was a fresh pot of coffee on the table and her chair had been pulled out for her. There was no sign of Jareth. Sarah sat down and folded her hands in her lap. She watched the clock tick by for a few minutes before the heavy wooden doors opened and the goblin king strode into the room. He wore white trousers and a light blue peasant blouse with a silver chain looped through his belt loops. His eyelids were dusted with a translucent, shimmering powder, and as always, he wore the same amulet around his neck. He nodded politely in Sarah's direction before taking his seat. He took a pair of glasses from his pocket and slid them up over his nose while reaching for a book that had been placed next to his place setting. He stopped when he noticed Sarah hadn't been eating.

"Dear Sarah," he said, a grin tugging at his lips, "Were you waiting for me?"

Sarah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "It's impolite to begin without the host," she said, smiling softly in his direction, her eyes cast down at her empty plate.

Jareth seemed to accept this answer and began to carefully place food items on his plate. Sarah did the same. They ate in silence for a few moments before Jareth put his book down and looked across the table at her.

"How did you sleep?" he asked, folding his hands under his chin.

"I was fine until those birds began their incessant chorus." Sarah complained, "But otherwise, I slept fine, thank you." Jareth seemed to revel in the sound of her thanks and savored the moment a bit before responding.

"The birds wake me as well. I can have the gardeners install something outside of your windows to keep them away, if you'd like." He waved his hand in the air as if doing her this small kindness was of no effort to him. Sarah knew that he had been used to a certain kind of life—one in which people below him did things for him at the drop of a hat. Sarah scoffed under her breath quietly, and met his gaze from across the table.

"You're used to people serving you, aren't you?" she asked. Jareth eyed her curiously, wondering if this would transform into one of their heated little verbal spars he so enjoyed.

"I am royalty, Sarah, it is not uncommon for members of royal blood to employ servants." He grinned, twirling his fork around on his plate, never taking his eyes off of her. Her cheeks grew red and hot and she had to look away from him. He was irritating and obnoxious, but he was right. Still, she pushed on.

"Do you know how to do anything by yourself?" she inquired, eyes narrowing.

"Do you?" he asked. He laughed loudly, mouth open and head hanging back.

Sarah clenched her fists. "I solved your labyrinth." She stated flatly, holding her own.

Jareth stopped laughing and lowered his head. He looked slowly from side to side, as if making sure no one had heard her.

"Yes," he confirmed, "Yes you did. And you've been the only one to do so."

Sarah stopped short. Her? The only one to reach the goblin city and confront Jareth in that warped and twisted fever dream of a maze? It seemed impossible. But perhaps not many humans had ever set foot there, and she was merely one out of a meager handful to get it right.

She put her fork down and wiped her hands on her napkin. Taking a shaking breath, she looked him in the eyes and asked him, "How many people have come to this place?"

Jareth hesitated, not knowing if answering her was a good idea. How much did she need to know about his world? He had always enjoyed the sense of power that came from her confusion and surprise as she tried to navigate through the Underground. If he began disclosing information to her, then that would all change. However, he decided, this one little piece to the puzzle couldn't hurt.

"More than you can imagine," he answered gravely. He continued to twirl his fork across his plate, watching her reaction with an amused expression. Her eyes were scanning the ground as her mind worked to absorb what he had said.

"And how long have people been coming here?" she inquired, her fingers working anxiously against one another in her lap.

Jareth grinned a half smile, "Centuries, my dear."

Sarah paled. Jareth thought she might be growing faint, and was about to change the subject when the little goblin from Sarah's room lightly patted his boot with a little paw. Jareth snapped his head down in surprise, and upon seeing the creature, sneered and pulled his foot back.

"How unsavory," he stated, "These servants have got to watch their pets better." He stood as if to remove the thing himself when Sarah rushed over and lifted it into her arms.

"He came down with me," she vouched, "I found him this morning going through my room."

Jareth eyed them both slowly and softened when he saw the way Sarah's hands clutched protectively around the goblin.

"You always did have a soft spot for my subjects," he laughed quietly. His eyes sparkled with something that almost looked like affection, and although Sarah was drawn to the same feeling, she pulled herself back and straightened up.

"I'd like him to stay with me, if that's alright." She pet his head and scratched between his ears. The creature crooned and mumbled softly to itself as it started to fall asleep. Jareth couldn't help but smile. He waved his hand as if to say it was no business of his what she did, and sat back down. Sarah carried the goblin creature over to her chair and set him on the floor as she continued with her breakfast.

"Does your little friend have a name?" Jareth asked, picking up his book once more.

Sarah thought for a while before responding. She looked at the creature once more, with his eyes shiny and as purple as a field of violets. His awkward cuteness was almost overwhelming in that one moment and Sarah giggled under her breath, despite her present company. The creature did a few spins and sat down beside her feet.

"I think I'll call him Plum," she answered finally, "Because of his purple eyes."

Jareth eyed her with amusement as he pushed his glasses up over his nose. His half smile tugged at his lips and he leaned toward her and said "I'd have thought you liked peaches better."

***Thanks for sticking with me, readers! Stay tuned for more-I'll be introducing some new characters as well as going into detail on Jareth's background and writing about the Summer Festival with Hoggle, Ludo, and Didymus.***


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